Read Page 75

Egwene nodded thoughtfully. “That would have taken a lot of preparation.”

“From what I’ve been able to learn about her,” Saerin said, “Mesaana was good at preparation. She excelled at it.”Advertisement

Saerin’s task had been to discover whatever she could about Mesaana’s true nature. They had all heard the stories—who didn’t know the names of each of the Forsaken, and their most terrible deeds, by heart? But Egwene put little faith in stories; she wanted something more hardfast, if she could get it.

“You said there was a third possibility?” Egwene asked.

“Yes,” Seaine said. “We know that some weaves play with sound. Variations on vocal weaves are used to enhance a voice to project to a crowd, and in the ward against eavesdropping—indeed, they’re used in the various tricks used to listen in on what is being said nearby. Complex uses of the Mirror of Mists can change a person’s voice. With some practice, Doesine and I were able to fabricate a variation on a weave that would alter the words we spoke. In effect, we said one thing, but the other person heard another thing entirely.”

“Dangerous ground to walk, Seaine,” Saerin said, her voice gruff. “That is the kind of weave that could be used for ill purposes.”

“I couldn’t use it to lie,” Seaine said. “I tried. The oaths hold—so long as the weave was there, I couldn’t speak words that I knew another would hear as lies, even if they were truth when they left my lips. Regardless, it was an easy weave to develop. Tied off and inverted, it hung in front of me and altered my words in a way I’d indicated.

“Theoretically, if Mesaana had this weave in force, she could have taken up the Oath Rod and sworn whatever she wished. ‘I vow that I will lie whenever I feel like it’ for instance. The Oath Rod would have bound her with that vow, but the weaves would have changed the sounds in the air as they passed her lips. We’d have heard her saying the proper oaths.”

Egwene gritted her teeth. She’d assumed that defeating the Oath Rod would be difficult. And yet here was a simple weave capable of the feat. She should have known—never use a boulder when a pebble will do, as her mother had often said.

“With this,” Egwene said, “they could have been slipping Darkfriends into the ranks of the Aes Sedai for years.”

“Unlikely,” Saerin said. “None of the Black sisters we captured knew of this weave. If they had, then they’d have tried to use it when we made them reswear the oaths. I suspect that if Mesaana does know this trick, she has kept it to herself. The usefulness of it would vanish once too many people became aware of it.”

-- Advertisement --

pqdm.comads300x250--

“Still,” Egwene said. “What do we do? Knowing of the weave, we could probably find a way to check for it—but I doubt that the sisters would be willing to go through the reswearing process again.”

“And if it were to catch one of the Forsaken?” Yukiri asked. “It might be worth ruffling a few feathers to catch the fox hiding in the hen house.”

“She wouldn’t be caught,” Egwene said. “Besides, we don’t know if she’s using one of these methods. Seaine’s logic suggests that it might be possible—without too much trouble—to defeat the Oath Rod. The actual method Mesaana used is less important than the possibility of the act.”

Seaine glanced at Yukiri. None of the three had questioned Egwene’s knowledge that one of the Forsaken was in the White Tower, but she knew they’d been skeptical. Well, at least they now understood that it might be possible to defeat the Oath Rod.

“I want you to continue your work,” Egwene said. “You and the others were effective at capturing several Black sisters and unearthing the ferrets. This is much the same thing.” Merely far, far more dangerous.

“We’ll try, Mother,” Yukiri said. “But one sister among hundreds? One of the most crafty and evil creatures ever to have lived? I doubt she will leave many clues. Our investigations into the murders have, so far, yielded very little in the way of results.”

“Keep at it anyway,” Egwene said. “Saerin, what have you to report?”

“Tales, rumors and whispers, Mother,” Saerin said with a grimace. “You likely know the most famous stories regarding Mesaana—how she ran the schools in lands conquered by the Shadow during the War of Power. So far as I can tell, those legends are quite true. Marsim of Manetheren speaks of that in detail in her Annals of the Final Nights, and she’s often a reliable source. Alrom gathered quite a full report of living through one of those schools, and fragments of it have survived.

“Mesaana wished to be a researcher, but was rejected. The details are not clear. She also governed the Aes Sedai who went to the Shadow, leading them in battle at times, if Alrom’s report is to be believed. I’m not convinced it is; I think it likely Mesaana’s leadership was more figurative.”

Egwene nodded slowly. “But what of her personality? Who is she?”

Saerin shook her head. “The Forsaken are more monsters in the night than real ‘personalities’ to most, Mother, and much has been lost or misquoted. From what I can tell, among the Forsaken you could think of her as the realist—the one who, rather than sitting high on a throne, steps in and gets her hands dirty. Elandria Borndat’s Seeing Through the Breaking insists that, unlike Moghedien and Graendal, Mesaana was willing to take the reins directly.

“She was never known as the most skilled or powerful of the Forsaken, but she was extremely capable. Elandria explains that she did what needed to be done. When others would be scheming, she would be carefully building up defenses and training new recruits.” Saerin hesitated. “She…well, she sounds much like an Amyrlin, Mother. The Shadow’s Amyrlin.”

“Light,” Yukiri said. “Little wonder she set up here.” The Gray seemed very unsettled by that.

“The only other thing I could find of relevance, Mother,” Saerin said, “was a curious reference from the Blue scholar Lannis, who indicated that Mesaana was second only to Demandred in sheer anger.”

Egwene frowned. “I’d assume that all of the Forsaken are full of hate.”

“Not hate,” Saerin said. “Anger. Lannis thought Mesaana was angry—at herself, at the world, at the other Forsaken—because she wasn’t one of those at the forefront. That could make h pqdm.com